The archbishop of Milan and six assisting bishops performed the inglorious ceremony of degradation. Huss was clothed in priestly garments, the sacramental cup was put into his hand, and he was led to the high altar as if about to celebrate Mass. The devoted martyr calmly observed, "that his Redeemer had been arrayed with royal robes in mockery." The bishops appointed then proceeded to the office of degradation. He was stripped, one by one, of his sacred vestments, the cup was taken from his hand, the tonsure was obliterated by the scissors, a paper crown, daubed over with demons, was placed on his head, and with the superscription, Heresiarch. The prelates then piously devoted his soul to the regions of eternal woe. "Accursed Judas, who, having forsaken the counsel of peace, art entered into that of the Jews, we take this holy cup from thee, in which is the blood of Jesus Christ." But God stood by His faithful servant in a remarkable way, and enabled him to cry aloud, "I trust, in the mercy of God, I shall drink of it this day in His kingdom." "We devote thy soul to the infernal demons," said the prelates. "But I," said Huss, "commit my spirit into Thy hands, O Lord Jesus Christ; unto Thee I commend my soul which Thou hast redeemed."
In the most awfully solemn mockery and daring hypocrisy, the false church thought to rid itself of the stain of blood by declaring Huss to be cut off from the ecclesiastical body, released from the grasp of the church, and consigned as a layman to the vengeance of the secular arm. The Emperor now took charge of the outcast, and commanded his immediate execution. The Elector Palatine, with eight hundred horse, and a great multitude from the city, conducted the martyr to the stake. They stopped before the bishop's palace, where a heap of his books which had been condemned by the council were burning. He only smiled at this feeble act of vengeance. He endeavored to speak to the people and the imperial guards in German, but the Elector prevented him and ordered him to be burned. But nothing could disturb the peace of his mind: God was with him. He chanted the psalms as he went along, and prayed with such fervor, that the people of the town said, "What this man has done, we know not; but we hear him offer up most excellent prayers to God." On reaching the place of execution, he kneeled down, prayed for the forgiveness of his enemies, and commended his soul into the hands of Christ.
Even after Huss was tied to the stake, and the wood piled around him, the Elector asked him if he would not now recant and save his life. He nobly replied, "What I have written and taught was in order to rescue souls from the power of the devil, and to deliver them from the tyranny of sin, and I do gladly seal what I have written and taught with my blood." The fagots were then lighted; he remained firm and suffered with unshaken constancy, but his sufferings were brief. The Lord permitted a rising volume of smoke to suffocate his faithful martyr before the fire had scorched him. With the last feeble accents of his voice he was heard singing the praise of Jesus who died to save him. His ashes were carefully collected, and thrown into the lake, but his happy soul was now with Jesus in the paradise of God. The faithful piety of his affectionate followers tore up the earth from the spot of his martyrdom, carried it to Bohemia, moistened it with their tears, and preserved it as a relic of one whose name is never to be forgotten, but ever to be loved.
Thus died, thus slept in Jesus, one of the true harbingers of the Reformation. It is admitted by historians generally that he was one of the most blameless and virtuous of men, that the records of his constancy are not infected by a single stain of mere philosophical stoicism, or tainted by vanity, in anticipating a martyr's crown. But his death has affixed the brand of eternal infamy on the council that condemned him, and on the Emperor that betrayed him. His beloved friend and brother in Christ, Jerome of Prague, soon followed him to his home and rest on high.